Poetry by Jeremiah A. Garland
Below is a collection of poetry written by Wiki Admin Jeremiah Garland. What World we Live in What world we live in Confided by our own belief Is a world of drear Shrouded with no relief Though man is strong in words and body It is an open mind that several lack We have come to accept fact for truth And not truth for fact What world we live in Where there is no doubt in the norm Is a world of fear Fear in what may become of the storm We grip to society with tight reins And we believe in all that is said When we listen more to what is in our heart And seldom to what is in our head What world we live in Where power surpasses love Is a world of no peace And of little faith in above If life is a journey And this world our boat How can we travel With no room to float? Saint Petersburg Down an empty street of harbour cold In the gloomy shades of a winter's night. A glory, a feeling lies I am told A sorrow that lives in cobblestone's light. The red of dusk has come and gone And before that, the blue of a Baltic's day. But now the white of eve shines beyond The midnight sky of a colour'd grey. Marble giants rise before me And slowly kiss the white-laced skies. As frozen statues before the sea Heed to the church bell's warm'ing cries. So to Palace Square that Peter found The regal lands of the Tsars. A cloudless night of joyful sounds The drums, the harps, the wind howling through the stars. A certain splendour lies before these walls One of grace and sweet memory of old. Perhaps its in the imperial theatres or conert halls Or perhaps it lies in the palace gardens, lined before with gold. As I wipe the frost from my pale'd hands A joyful carriage does draw forth. And though I seek the sky of distant lands I shall return to the Venice of the North. Perfection Wastefully wishing in the broken night His eyes meet her own; Such forbidden thoughts and sorrows. Reminded he smiles, though inside he cries: Love in its painful origin. And for her continuing troubles A greater burden to carry forth. For empty eyes cannot stare Through such a perfect void. Bitter warmth from her body; A desire that grows From endless lust and pain. How sweet one touch Would be like gold in dire life. Alas, he cannot; for she falls for The broken hand that dare not reach As the scattered stars silently weep In perfect time. A horrible madness sets forth And leaves one without breath: Love like the foulest cancer. Endless feeling, unrequited And thus desire burns For her, for love, for death. And all that remains From here to new beginnings: The perfect thought undisturbed. One day, he hopes For her to see what has not been done. The day that destroyed him And the night that left him alone. His pain is love For her gentle touch; Never will unfold, vast is this memory. As the night holds their grace A perfect pain. Category:Poetry Category:User Poetry